


Cotton Breathing

by snoqualmie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU - kind of, M/M, forest adventurin, kissin, like sooo much kissin, summer lovin, they live in different towns/cities so its like? LDR AU i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 04:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11593386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoqualmie/pseuds/snoqualmie





	Cotton Breathing

It’s disgustingly hot by the middle of July. Tooru can feel his shirt sticking to his back the longer he sits. He loves it, though. The heat, the whoosh of air through the cracked window, and the fact that he’s taking an _actual_ old-fashioned train should have lulled him into a hazy state of happiness but he’s already on the edge of his seat.

The train is almost empty; there are only a few other people sitting around him. The stop he’s getting off at is too remote for most people. The lady nearest to him has greying hair tucked behind her ears and her nose in a book and Tooru hasn’t been able to tell if she’s awake or asleep for the last hour. The two of them had spoken for a few minutes at the beginning of the ride—who they’re visiting, how much of trip it is but how worth it it is—but settled into silence as the train rumbled on. Too much silence, maybe. He glances at her, checks his phone for the time, he and then turns off his data so he doesn’t get roaming charges. He swipes to his messages and reads the same one over again, then twice more.

_Pick you up from the station @ 4._

He looks out the window and after a while he starts to have a more specific sense of how close he is instead of just a vague idea of how far away from home he’s getting. Tooru almost groans out loud. He wants to _be_ there already. It’s been hours of sitting and waiting, refreshing his social media, snapping pictures of the scenery for his mother back home as they rumble on. They pass a sign, almost too faded to read, and Tooru almost shoots straight out of his seat. They’re here. They’re finally, finally here. He shoulders one duffel bag and clenches his fist around the strap of the other. The lady near him looks up and smiles.

“Excited to see your grandmother?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tooru says, nodding quickly.

And it’s not a lie, exactly. He is excited to see his grandma, but his grandma isn’t the one picking him up from the station. Tooru wonders if that blue bike will be there.

They pull sluggishly into the station and Tooru can’t suppress the excited whine that whistles out from between his clenched teeth. He’s peering out the window, eyes flicking back and forth between the couple of people waiting at the station. It’s hard to see from this far away. He’s looking, he’s looking. He sees a blue bike chained to a rack. Where’s— _oh._ Tooru stands up fast enough to make himself a little dizzy. His heart is pounding. The train couldn’t possibly be pulling to a stop any slower and Tooru’s stomach is lurching with every stuttered heartbeat. He’s there, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed.

The train slows to a stop and Tooru shifts forward, steps out into the aisle of the tiny train. He forces himself to go slow, take each step at a normal pace and not bolt off the train like every inch of his body is telling him to. He sucks in a deep breath and follows behind the other passenger, duffel catching and bumping on the rows of seats. He steps off the train and onto the platform, into the humid afternoon air. The person leaning against the wall shifts, steps forward, and breaks into a grin. Tooru breaks into a sprint. It’s not a long one; the station is small. He almost trips over the combined weight of his bags and pulls them off, tossing them to the side so he can launch himself at the person waiting for him. It feels like he’s flying for a split second and then all the air is whooshing out of his lungs as he’s crushed into a chest.  
It’s quiet for a long moment, the sound of their ragged breathing and the murmur of the other passengers sounds muted and fuzzy. Tooru’s heartbeat is pounding in his ears as broad palms splay across his back and squeeze him closer. He sucks in a deep breath through his nose against the neck his face is pressed into. Sun-baked dirt, sweat, deodorant. There’s a snort of laughter against his ear.

“Holy hell,” a voice says, surprised and out of breath. “You missed me, huh?”

Tooru laughs and disentangles himself to stand up properly, stretching to his full height to look down the bridge of his nose, “Of course I missed my little Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi’s head tips as he looks at Tooru.

Tooru shifts, tries not to feel warm under the gaze that seems to be what he can only place as considerate and vaguely surprised. Tooru opens his mouth to say something.

“You got taller,” Iwaizumi says firmly, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

Tooru grins wider. “You didn’t.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious,” Tooru continues, patting the top of Iwaizumi’s head. “I thought you just seemed tiny on my phone screen, but you’re still tiny in real life!”

Iwaizumi’s weird expression drops and he rolls his eyes. “Alright, back on the train, fucker. You’re leaving.”

Tooru grins wider and tosses his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, slumping into him and poking his lower lip out in a pout. “I really did miss you.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi says, reaching up to ruffle Tooru’s hair before pushing him away. “Grab your shit. I’ll walk you home.”

The way he says home has Tooru’s stomach flipping. _Home_ —like he belongs here. He drops his arms and goes to grab his bags, lolling his head back. “Do I get to ride on the back of your bike?”

Iwaizumi’s mouth tips into tiny smile and he rubs the back of his neck. “We haven’t done that in years.”

“We haven’t done anything in years, actually,” Tooru says, pointing a lazy finger.

Tooru slings a duffel bag over his shoulder and lets Iwaizumi take the other one. Tooru wants to reach out and catch Iwaizumi’s fingers as they walk shoulder to shoulder to the bike rack. He doesn’t. He nudges their shoulders together and says, “I can’t believe you still actually have that bike.”

Iwaizumi points to the frame. “Different frame. I got too big for the last one. I just picked your stickers off and moved them.”

Tooru leans down to peek at the frame of the bike and Iwaizumi is right. There’s a Seijou volleyball club sticker that Tooru got when he joined the club in his first year, a more faded sticker of a character from a show that Tooru hasn’t watched in years.

“Has it really been that long?” Tooru asks, more to himself than anything.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, just as quietly. “You got tall.”

“You keep saying that. Jealous?”

“No. I’m still way stronger than you’ll ever be and that’s what matters.”

Tooru huffs and bumps Iwaizumi’s shoulder again. “How do you get so much attitude in your teeny tiny body, Iwa-chan?”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi says. “I won’t walk you home if you don’t stop being a dick.”

He walks Tooru home even though he’s kind of a dick. It’s a long walk, too. Most of it is uphill and quiet aside from their labored breathing. Tooru’s shoulder is aching by the time they’re making their way through the town and despite the fact that he feels sweaty all the way down to his toes he’s unbelievably happy to be back. Tooru waves back at the lingering shop workers that call out to him, promises he’ll make a proper visit tomorrow. Iwaizumi just keeps walking, that tiny smile on his face as his flip-flops slap against the soles of his feet. The town is drowsy and quiet in the late afternoon sun. Nothing seems to have changed since the last time he visited. The memories are a big hazy but still very much so there and the path they walk feels familiar like no other.

Tooru’s grandmother is beside herself when she sees him, yarding him into a hug too tight to be from a woman of her age and fawning over him him like it’s been ten years instead of three.

“You never come see me anymore,” she scolds, smacking at his shoulder as she ushers him and Iwaizumi inside the house. “I’ve talked to your mother, you know! She says you’re too busy with volleyball and school and all of that bullshit, but I’m your grandmother. No matter how busy my daughter-in-law says you are, poor old granny should be a priority too.”

Tooru’s jaw drops, “Grandma! You don’t—I didn’t. Don’t swear at me!”

“I don’t know what kind of big city boy you think you are, bossing around your grandma.”

She turns away from him and grumbles under breath as Iwaizumi slips off his shoes and grabs both of Tooru’s bags to take them upstairs.

“I’m damn near a million years old, I can swear all I want,” she says over her shoulder as she walks towards the kitchen.

Iwaizumi’s halfway up the stairs when she says, “Hajime!”

She gives him a look from over the frames of her glasses. “Can you believe this?”

Hajime shakes his head and bounds up the stairs, laugh echoing down as Tooru gets scolded a little bit more.Tooru takes a long moment to stand in the genkan of house. There’s light filtering through the open windows, probably washing out the old hardwood floor even more. It feels like home.

Iwaizumi leaves with a kiss to Tooru’s grandmother’s cheek and a slap on Tooru’s back. Tooru turns to his grandma with a sheepish smile. She’s still narrowing her eyes at him but Tooru can see a little smile at the corners of her eyes. They make dinner together. It’s just shy of an ordeal but his plate ends piled high with food made by the woman who inspired him to pick up cooking in the first place and Tooru really can’t complain about that.

She asks him about school, about life, about the team, about scholarships and college. By the time Tooru’s caught her up on his entire high school career thus-far, they’ve had three glasses of wine each and Tooru’s smiling so hard his face hurts. His legs swing as he perches on the barstool and his grandmother spoons ice cream into bowls for them.

She nudges a bowl of chocolate ice cream towards him and he spoons some into his mouth. “I missed you.”

“I missed _you,”_ she says. “Hajime missed you, too.”

Tooru grins and spins his phone in circles on the counter. “He’s different.”

“The last time you saw him you were, what? Barely fifteen?” she asks, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. “Hajime has grown into himself since then.”

“He’s beefy,” Tooru blurts. “I’m tipsy.”

His grandmother laughs and nods. “He’s quite a handsome young man. Girls are tripping over their feet for him but he never accepts their little confessions. He’s very caught up in his work.”

“Work? Like, a job or?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding sagely. “He works part-time at the grocery store and part time at Hasegawa-san’s gardens near the edge of town.”

“Two jobs?” Tooru asks. “Why?”

She shrugs. “Hell if I know. I’m sure it’s something important.”

That night Tooru’s grandmother puts him up in the spare room that he used to stay in every summer. The room itself is a little small and kind of dusty but when Tooru stretches out on his back the stars he stuck on the ceiling when he was little are still there. They don’t glow anymore, but they’re still there.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose. There are no city sounds filtering through his open window, just the rustle of the breeze through the trees and cicadas screaming their hearts out. It’s a little too warm in the room. Tooru is asleep before he can even stop to think.

Tooru wakes up in the morning to a text.

 _Garden center until 2 + grocery 4 to 8._  
Tooru’s replies as his brain catches up to his eyes and he can check the time. It’s barely past eight.

 _“!!! Do your thing,”_ he replies. _“Get that money۹(ÒہÓ)۶”_

He slips into running shorts and hops down the stairs to go for a jog. 

Once he’s back at the house he makes quite time out of sorting through his social media and getting back to the people who have contacted him. He sends Matsukawa a few pictures, tells his mom that Iwaizumi is seriously getting handsome, tweets something about _teeny tiny Iwa-chan._ As the sun creeps higher the heat gets unbearable and he’s climbing into the bathtub to press his face against the cool tile.

He must doze off because he jolts awake to his phone buzzing few minutes before noon.

It’s a reply to his tweet from earlier and a notification he hadn’t even heard.

_@kyoutaniken is now following you_

_@hajimetherock replied to your tweet: fuck you lol_

His phone pings again with a text notification.

_Can I call?? Lunch break_

Tooru just calls first.

Iwaizumi picks up on the first ring. “Hey, kid.”

“We’re the same age,” Tooru says, wiggling out of his shirt. Tooru doesn't know why bathrooms are always cooler but he leans up against the wall and it feels good against his bare back so he groans.

Iwaizumi grunts into the phone. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Tooru says. “I’m in the bathroom. Like, not with water or anything. It's just cooler than the rest of the house and it feels good. Are you allowed to be on the phone at work?”

“During break, yeah,” Iwaizumi says. It sounds like he’s got a mouthful of food and Tooru is a little bit charmed.

“Do you work a lot?”

“Yeah. I work five to two every other day. Mornings are good for watering the plants. Sometimes I come in the evening for an evening water.”

“And you work for the grocer,” Tooru points out.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Tooru asks. “Why do you have two jobs?”

“I like working.”

It doesn’t sound like a whole truth but Tooru drops it. There’s a shuffling noise. 

“Tell me about your plant babies,” Tooru says.

There’s a loud huff into the receiver and Tooru can almost see Iwaizumi’s frown.

“Why?”

“Because I want to know,” Tooru says, leaning his head back and smiling. “I like it when you tell me about the stuff you like, you little plant mage.”

“The fact that you just called me a plant mage says so much about how big of a fucking dweeb you are that I don’t even feel like I need to punch you in your giant head.”

“Tell me about your damn vines,” Tooru says, narrowing his eyes at the ceiling. Iwaizumi laughs once, short and loud, and starts talking. He sounds happy and lazy and Tooru can see him tucked away in a backroom, surrounded by plants with his bento in front of him. Broad shoulders curled in as he bends over the counter. Tooru bites at the inside of his cheek. Iwaizumi’s voice is nice. They’ve called each other a lot over the last couple years but it feels different after actually _seeing_ him _and_ knowing that he’ll get to see him again.

“So,” Iwaizumi says. “I work tonight until eight but afterwards I’m free.”

He says it more like a question and Tooru wants to curl up and yell. He’s so cute.

“Alright, Iwa-chan. Come over whenever works. We can watch a movie or something.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi mumbles into the phone. “That’d be cool. Have you seen tha—shit, hold on.”

Tooru scrunches his face as Iwaizumi tucks the phone against what? His chest, maybe? And talks to his Hasegawa-san. A few seconds later Iwaizumi’s voice is back in Tooru’s ear.

“I gotta go,” he says. “My break has technically been over for, like, five minutes.”

Tooru didn’t even realize they’d been talking for so long.

“I’ll text you when I’m off work,” Iwaizumi says, hushed. “Okay? Okay, I gotta go. Fuck, okay. I lo—I’ll see you tonight.”

The line beeps dead and Tooru wheezes a heavy breath, clutching his phone to his chest and sighing.

He loves plants, which is a thing Tooru didn’t know. They’ll have to spend some time in the garden one evening if Iwaizumi’s feeling up to it. Tooru feels squirmy and giddy. Iwaizumi is so _cute_. His phone pings where it’s lying on his chest and he checks it right away.

 _Sorry. Old man’s like “get back to work Hajime! Call your girlfriend later” I’m like… It’s Tooru lol. He’s like “oh haha same thing.” i'll text after work but you can text while i'm on shift :)_  
Tooru sends back a flexing arm and a sparkly heart because if any two emojis can explain how he’s feeling, it’s those two.

The latter half of the day is a pain in the ass to get through. It's too hot to go anywhere, it's too early to go somewhere for the evening. He's on the edge of his seat maybe just a little bit because he knows he's seeing Iwaizumi tonight. It shouldn't be that big of a deal but it feels like it is. Tooru groans and flops onto his bum in the kitchen. The tile is cool and he makes the executive decision to ruck his shirt up and lay on his belly to cool off. He can hear his grandma upstairs singing and rustling around.

Tooru presses his forehead to the floor and a takes a deep breath. Maybe he'll nap. That's what animals do when it gets too hot. That's why it's so quiet during the peak of summer days.

There isn't much noise. None, really, aside from the cicadas but that’s just summer. There’s the static filled drawl of the radio upstairs, his grandma's humming, the house creaking and settling in the heat. He closes his eyes and focuses on those individual sounds, on nothing at all, on everything. He thinks about Iwaizumi's hands and his smile and his mouth. He thinks about the way Iwaizumi's shoulders shift, how they feel under his hands, how his jaw might feel under Tooru's mouth and before Tooru knows it, he's dozing off.

He wakes up nearly two hours later, hazy and confused. The sun isn't as high in the sky but it's even hotter than earlier, shining through the window directly on the backs of his legs. The tile underneath him is warmed with the afternoon sun and Tooru groans, turning his face away from the sun and trying to fall back asleep. It works a little bit. He catnaps, really, for a while, tapping toes to the tick of the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, the buzz of insects starting to creep out of their hiding places.

He paws for his phone when he’s a little bit more alive and checks his messages. None of them are really important and neither is anything on any of his social media. It's awful and terrible and lame but he wants Iwaizumi. He wants to see him and talk to him and flirt with him and push the limits of this thing they've got going on. It's sweet and soft and makes Tooru's heart beat fast but Iwaizumi isn't off until eight and it's barely half past four.

In hindsight it's not that long. Tooru can find something productive to do. He can dick around until the weather cools off and then there's got to be something. There's got to be a volleyball tucked in the house somewhere.

He's bouncing a half-deflated volleyball off the side of his grandmother's house when his phone pings from its place in the grass.

It's Iwaizumi. Early, too.

_"Hey,"_ it says. _"I'm off early bc the store was mad slow. im going to shower and then come over so maybe? Idk 1 hr?"_

Tooru sends back a thumbs up and a kissy face because that's definitely enough to get the message across but suddenly there's this thing twisting in his gut. It's not butterflies. Tooru snatches the volleyball up and runs into the house. He takes the stairs two at a time and yells, "Grandma, Iwa-chan is coming over. I'm going to take a shower really quick, alright?"

He doesn’t even realize he’s taken the volleyball into the shower with him until he tries to grab his body wash and he drops it on his foot. 

Iwaizumi shows up at 10 minutes past seven with a t-shirt that's stupidly tight on his chest and has Bigfoot wrestling a bear on the front of it.

"Hey," he says, stepping into the house and shoving a bag of popcorn at Tooru.

It's weird how Tooru's nerves settle when Iwaizumi grins at him like that. It’s also weird that he can’t stop thinking about how cute Iwaizumi’s toes are as he kicks his flip flops off in the genkan. His hair is wet and dripping down the sides of his face, probably down the back of his neck, too, under the collar of his shirt. Tooru grins back. Iwaizumi's eyes narrow and he swats the popcorn, "You like white cheddar, right? I couldn't remember."

"I do," Tooru says with a nod. "Good job."

"Sorry for intruding," Iwaizumi calls out loudly.

Tooru's grandma says something loudly from upstairs that sounds a lot like _shut your mouth, Hajime!_ And it’s sort of annoying, really, the way Iwaizumi collapses into the couch like he belongs there, like he’s there all the time. Tooru narrows his eyes and tries to judge the appropriate closeness to sit with a friend who’s sort of not just a friend that you haven’t seen in years.

Iwaizumi huffs and throws his arm around Tooru with not even as much as a second of hesitation, without even wondering if he should or not. It’s annoying how Tooru sinks into Iwaizumi’s side, into the uncomfortable warmth radiating off of him and the smell of his soap and his deodorant and the smell of him. There should be something awkward. Even if it’s just a little bit awkward it should still be here but Tooru fits into Iwaizumi’s side like he’s supposed to be there and Iwaizumi doesn’t even seem fazed. He seems relaxed and comfortable and happy and Tooru feels like he’s melting. He couldn’t care less about the actual plot of the movie, especially when Iwaizumi’s fingers pick up into a slow back and forth trace over his bare arm.

“You’re dumb,” Tooru huffs somewhere towards the climax of the movie. Iwaizumi is tense beside him, eyes locked on the screen. He’s so invested.

Tooru hates the way his heart keeps skipping in his chest.

“You’re dumb,” he says again, definitely directed at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi just hums his agreement.

When midnight rolls around Iwaizumi huffs and pulls away from where the two of them are plastered together. Tooru’s barely awake, more than happy to have been lulled into a stupidly drowsy state of happiness by shake of Iwaizumi’s leg and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When the door clicks shut behind Iwaizumi Tooru groans and slams his face into the pillow Iwaizumi had been leaning on. It smells like him and Tooru kicks his feet like a child.

“You’re dumb,” he says into the cushion and before long he falls asleep just like that.

Tooru is up before the sun for a jog and back before his grandmother is awake. He makes them breakfast and she shuffles into the kitchen with her greying hair in a bun at the top of her head and the most worn house slippers Tooru has ever seen. He should buy her some new ones. She wanders the kitchen as she eats her oatmeal and Tooru leans his chin on his hand. He’s been wondering for awhile now where he gets his restless tendencies but it’s becoming fairly clear as she taps her feet against the tiles. 

The two of them tidy up together and then they go into the backyard. Her garden is everything Tooru remembers, lush and fragrant like it’s her own little jungle. The hanging baskets are overflowing and they tickle the sides of Tooru’s face as he smells flowers and brushes leaves. They work in the yard and talk about easy stuff until the sun gets persistent in its endeavour to overheat them. As they sit on the porch with lemonade and a late afternoon lunch she informs him that he needs to go through town today, since he’s here and so young and limber and definitely able to carry much more than her.

He almost calls bullshit on that. She’s the toughest old lady Tooru’s ever come across. He takes her shopping list anyway, snags the reusable bags off the hook near the door, and heads off for the shops.

It’s not until he’s almost to the grocery store that he realizes he has rounds to make. The town hasn’t seen him in years and some people are expecting proper visits to their shops. He doesn’t mind, though, and tries to think of the best places to stop by.

The sun is hot and each store he slips into feels like a little reprieve. He tries to keep it short and sweet for each visit, leaning in to kiss cheeks and laughing off comments that he probably has girls tripping over themselves back in the city. He says the same things a dozen times. He answers the same questions about school, about university, now about volleyball after his grandmother had bragged for weeks upon Tooru’s mother mailing her a copy of the prefectural volleyball magazine Tooru’s team had a small feature in during his second year. He almost texts Iwaizumi to see what he’s doing but he turns a corner and comes face to face with his favorite place in the entire town. He picks up his pace and bursts through the door with a grin that’s so wide it hurts his cheeks.

The woman who owns it is tall and intimidatingly beautiful, eyes flicking up from where she’s punching dough down. She lets out a surprised noise and comes out from behind the counter, stepping towards him with open arms. He’s pulled into his twentieth hug of the day but this one makes his chest feel full. It’s one he grew up with, one he hasn’t had for years. It makes him feel little and grown-up all at the same time so he hugs back, arms tight around her shoulders.

She pulls back after a long moment just to pepper loud kisses all over his face and Tooru can’t help the giggles that slip out of him. She takes a deep breath and holds him at arm's distance. “Holy hell, Tooru.”

Tooru almost laughs again. Her son had said the exact same thing.

“You’ve grown so much.”

“I keep hearing that,” he says, setting his hands over hers and trying to pinch his smile into something more socially acceptable than what he’s got on. “How are you?”

“I’m doing damn fine,” she says, shaking her head. She squeezes his arms and sighs. “Just as beautiful as Hajime said.”

Tooru’s heart stutters and he presses a hand to it. “Thank you.”

She smiles rubs her hands up and down his arms. “I’m serious! He wouldn’t shut up about you last night. His father and I were about to tape his mouth shut.”

Tooru can feel his face heating up and he shakes his head. “Thank you.”

She pitches her voice lower and looks dreamily out the window. “Mama he looked so pretty when he’s concentrating on the movie. His nose is—! Mama, his eyes—!”

Tooru groans and covers his face with his hands.

“Do you need anything?” she asks, stepping back from him and setting her hands on her hips. “Milk bread?”

Tooru groans and nods, “Yes, please. I don’t think I’ll survive grocery shopping without it. It’s been too long.”

She laughs, too loud for the tiny shop, as she puts a few rolls into a little paper bag. “Hajime is actually at the store working right now so you’ll probably bump into him. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“I heard he worked there,” Tooru says, tapping his chin. “I’ll be sure to bug him a little bit while I’m there.”

Iwaizumi’s mother laughs and nudges the bag towards him. She won’t let him pay but when she turns her back he sneaks more than enough money into the tip jar. He knows how hard she works. He slips out of the shop with promises of coming over for dinner soon and sets his sights on the grocery store.

It’s unbelievably cool in the store and Tooru groans happily. The bakery was hot, outside was hot. He wants a popsicle but his grandma’s groceries are the focus. Popsicles later. Vegetables first. He mused over bringing home two pineapples instead of just one. He wonders where Iwaizumi is. Iwaizumi is stocking shelves when Tooru finally catches him. He’s got his arms full and Tooru grins as he steps into the aisle. Iwaizumi doesn’t even look. He’s whistling quietly and shifting things around on the shelf. Tooru saddles up to his side and says loudly, “Oh, excuse me. I just need to grab this—”

“Holy hell,” Iwaizumi gasps, jerking sideways. He catches himself and narrows his eyes at Tooru. “Seriously?”

Tooru grins, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says sharply, huffing out a heavy breath. He eyes flick to the bag in Tooru’s hand. “You went and saw Ma? Did she tell you I was working?”

“Yes and yes,” Tooru says. “She gave me milk bread and lots of kisses.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and puts another box on the shelf.

 

“What, Iwa-chan?” Tooru asks, teasing lilt slipping into his voice. “Jealous?”

“I can make my _own_ milk bread, asshole,” Iwaizumi says, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not quite what I meant,” Tooru says, tapping a finger on his chin. Before Iwaizumi can punch him Tooru takes a couple of steps away and grins.

“Did you come here just to harass me?” Iwaizumi asks, setting the last box on the shelf and turning towards Tooru.

“No,” he says. “I came to get Grandma’s groceries and stuff. Also, it’s not harassing you. Don’t even deny it: you’re charmed by my presence. You think I’m beautiful.”

“You should probably go get your grandmother’s groceries before I fucking kill you.”

“I should,” Tooru says. “But aren’t I allowed to come here just to see my precious Iwa-chan at work?”

“I hate you,” Iwaizumi snaps. He clears his throat and continues, “I’m off at seven thirty. We can go to the river or something.”

Tooru bites down on his lower lip to keep from smiling and nods twice. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi echoes. “I want to shower and stuff but I’ll meet you at the trailhead at nine?”

“The old one we used to take when we were really young or the new one?”

“Old,” Iwaizumi says, reaching out and shoving Tooru. “Leave me alone. Let me do my job.”

Tooru ruffles Iwaizumi’s hair and bounces away, ignoring the fist that grazes his shoulder.

Grocery shopping isn’t exactly fun, but it’s nice to not be in a crowded supermarket. He can linger and sift through the fruit for as long as he pleases. He sees Iwaizumi again, this time as he passes the cereal aisle. He waits until Iwaizumi sees him and pulls the ugliest face he can manage. Iwaizumi lets out a bark of laughter before turning away and muffling it into his shoulder.

Tooru takes it as a job well-done and continues. 

The walk home is terribly hot and Tooru feels all different kinds of sweaty by the time he’s coming back through the front door with the groceries. He dumps his bags on the counter and calls out for his grandmother. He doesn’t get a response and peeks around the house for a few minutes before seeing her through the window. She’s perched in the garden patio, nose tucked into a book. Tooru sets to work putting the groceries away. It’s fast work and he turns in a circle in the kitchen. He could shower. Or pick up a book.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and he’s got a few unread text messages from his friends back at home. He answers the ones from his teammates group message and then locks his phone and tosses it onto the couch in the main room. Tooru ties his hair up and hops into a cold shower, then he reads a little bit. He goes out and talks to his grandmother and then he’s stretching out in the shade under a tree in the backyard trying to remember the last time he had absolutely nothing to do. It’s nice. The hours pass slowly and it’s ridiculously hot but it’s a nostalgic kind of drag that Tooru’s been missing. His grandmother’s foot taps idly against a tile, there are bird sounds and bug sounds and the general hum of a lazy summer that makes Tooru feel relaxed for the first time in a long time. By the time dinner rolls around and is over with, Tooru’s leg bounces in tandem with his grandmother’s.

“What’s got your goat tonight?” she asks as she cracks a beer open.

“I’m going to the river with Iwa-chan,” Tooru breathes excitedly.

She narrows her eyes. “Be safe.”

“Is it not safe out there anymore?”

“You know what I mean,” she says. “Be safe with him.”

Tooru doesn’t understand what that means and says as much. She just shakes her head and waves him out the door with more than a few beers tucked into the satchel on his hip. He heads out towards the forest, quick enough to nudge his heart rate up a bit. He can’t help it. He’s excited. It’s been so long since he’s been to the river. Iwaizumi is at the trailhead when he gets there. Tooru’s stomach knots up. He shakes his head to clear the feeling and walks to Iwaizumi, who glances at his hip and then nods his chin at it.

“I brought beer,” Tooru says.

Iwaizumi snorts a laugh and swings his backpack off his shoulders. He unzips it a little bit and pulls out a bottle. “I brought this.”

Tooru laughs as Iwaizumi swings the bag back up onto his back and then the two of them set off down the well-worn trail. It may have been years but Tooru remembers it like the back of his hand. His mind supplies a thousand tiny details before they’ve even lost sight of the little town. There’s a root about ten minutes in that bulges straight out of the ground and is easy to trip on, there’s a dip in the trail to the right a few minutes later that leads to a rock wall of a dead end. It’s half an hour to the river if they walk fast, forty minutes if they take their time.

“What are you thinking about?” Iwaizumi asks.

“The trail,” Tooru says, flinging his arms out to his sides. Iwaizumi dodges a flying hand. “I remember it.”

Iwaizumi snorts a laugh. “It’s been a while.”

Tooru skips a few steps ahead and walks backwards. “You keep saying that.”

The forest gets thicker as they walk and the sun begins to have a hard time peeking through the trees as it sets.

“Well, I’m right, aren’t I?” Iwaizumi asks, eyebrows pulling together.

“Yeah,” Tooru says. He feels heavier. “It has.”

Iwaizumi takes a few wide strides and catches up to Tooru, knocks him lightly with his shoulder.

Neither of them trip over the root.

It’s nearly half past nine by the time they get to the river and Tooru lets out an excited whoop when it comes into sight. No matter how hot it gets, this river is steady and sure and Tooru loves it. He’s already toeing his shoes off when Iwaizumi says, “I forgot how much of a water freak you are.”

Tooru holds up a rude gesture behind his back and shucks his pants off, tossing them backwards and laughing when there’s disgruntled grumbling from Iwaizumi. The river is clear in the barely-there late evening light and Tooru hops down the rocky bank as quickly as possible. Iwaizumi plops down on the bank and takes his shoes off a little bit more carefully, stuffing his socks inside of them and setting them down next to where he set Tooru’s.

Tooru is wiggling his toes down into the smooth pebbles at the bottom of the river when he turns around and grins at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi is leaning back on a hand with a beer in the other, head tilted and lazy grin on his face. Tooru kicks some water at him just for the hell of it and Iwaizumi’s grin gets a little wider.

Tooru kicks around for a bit more before he heads back towards the bank. He plops down next to Iwaizumi and digs a beer out of the backpack.

“So,” Iwaizumi says, eyes somewhere in the distance. “How’s city life?”

Tooru hums and settles in for a long talk.

By the time it’s finished Iwaizumi’s on beer number four and Tooru’s stumbling over his words. They’ve stopped counting shots. Iwaizumi’s head is hanging backwards, eyes closed and throat working as he swallows. It’s distracting. Tooru wants to put his tongue on it, kind of. Iwaizumi’s skin probably tastes like sweat and salt and boy.

“City boy,” Iwaizumi mumbles for the tenth time. He snorts. “I can’t believe your team went to nationals.”

“It was amazing,” Tooru replies, leaning back so he can pop the button on his shorts.

“Sorry about this year,” Iwaizumi continues. “You’re playing university volleyball, though, right? Fuck, you’re going to be amazing.”

“Depends,” Tooru says. “I got offered a couple of scholarships. I think we talked about it before.”

He doesn’t want to talk about university, though, he wants to swim. He missed the river. He feels warm all over, his head feels stuffed full of fuzzies. He flops backwards into the dirt so he can wiggle them away. He peeks an eye open and Iwaizumi is watching him.

“What?”

“I missed you.” It’s too dark for Tooru to make out the look in his eyes.

“I missed you, too.”

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi says. “I _missed_ you.”

He’s talking like his tongue is too heavy in his mouth. Tooru sits up and his head swims.

“Come swim with me,” Tooru says, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it off.

Iwaizumi sets down his beer and smile. “Okay.”

Iwaizumi actually folds the clothes Tooru tosses onto the ground and Tooru wants to kick him in the head for it. That’s silly. Iwaizumi’s statement feels heavy on his brain. Tooru hasn’t changed. He still hates mosquitos and cries way too much. He hasn’t changed. Iwaizumi is being silly.

“You’re silly,” Tooru says out loud as he pads back down the bank of the river.

It kind of tilts a little bit and he holds his hands out to his sides to keep his balance as he wades into the water. It’s chilly and refreshing and Tooru hums as he gets deeper. He turns around when he’s up to his waist. Iwaizumi is wading in after him. The sour pinch in his face from a few moments ago is gone, replaced with a lopsided grin that Tooru associates with every summer he’s ever spent in this town. He wades towards Tooru and Tooru lets his eyes wander down his body as he gets closer. Iwaizumi’s not barely-fifteen anymore. He’s definitely not. Tooru’s eyes follow the line of his shoulders, the shape of his arms, the broad expanse of his chest. His mouth feels dry by the time Iwaizumi is close. 

The water is sucking the lingering heat out of Tooru’s limbs and he drags a hand through it to flick some at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi jolts and raises his hands in mock claws, growling low in his throat and stepping towards Tooru. Tooru chokes on a giggle and tries to step away. He almost gets out of reach but Iwaizumi lurches forward and grabs him around the waist, knocking him off balance. They both go under and Tooru surfaces with a gasp and a whole lot of hair in his eyes. He laughs again, this time from the bottom of his chest. He throws his head back with it as Iwaizumi tries to wrestle him back underwater with a laugh just as loud. He feels like a kid again. All the summers he’d spent in this river, in this town, ecstatic beyond belief to spend just a few weeks with his best friend ever. _Hajime_ turned _Iwa-chan_ turned to someone tall and warm and strong as he pins Tooru to his chest and rubs his knuckles into his hair.

He ends up wrapped around Iwaizumi, chest to chest with his legs loose around Iwaizumi underneath the water and arms around his neck. Iwaizumi relaxes, leaning back and letting the water hold them up.

“Three years,” Iwaizumi says, gingerly wrapping his arms around Tooru’s sides. “You’re not—You’re Oikawa now.”

Tooru’s not too inebriated to pick up on what he means. He purses his lips. “I can still be little Tooru.”

“Taller,” Iwaizumi says, eyes unfocused and blinking slowly.

“Not much,” Tooru lies with a shrug. He sighs and lets his head loll backwards. The moon is barely peeking through the trees.

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi breathes. “I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

“If you don’t know me,” Tooru says, frustration at the back of his throat and alcohol tying his tongue up. “Then what’s this?”

It’s silent for a moment as Tooru gestures between them. Tooru doesn’t go around half-naked climbing into just anybody’s laps. Iwaizumi is his best friend, no matter how far apart or how long they go without being able to talk.

“You’re still Iwa-chan,” Tooru says firmly, tripping over the syllables. “I’m still Tooru. Just because we’re in high school doesn’t mean we don’t—we aren’t—it doesn’t mean we’re not us.”

“Three years,” Iwaizumi mumbles. He leans forward and rests his forehead on Tooru’s shoulder. “Video chatting sucks."

The _“compared to this”_ goes unspoken but heard very clearly.

“I’m sorry.” Tooru’s voice catches. “I missed you.”

“Missed you,” Iwaizumi mumbles against the side of his neck. Tooru shivers. Iwaizumi’s mouth is warm and his lips are soft and Tooru wants him to just do it. It’s quiet for a long moment. Tooru doesn’t know what _it_ is.

“Your mom said you said I’m pretty,” Tooru says. He doesn’t know where it came from.

“Mom said that she thinks you’re pretty?” Iwaizumi asks.

“No,” Tooru says, swinging his head back up. “That you said I was pretty.”

“Oh.”

“Well, beautiful,” Tooru says, tipping his head to the side. He feels like he can barely hold it up. “Same thing, though.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth opens and closes a few times.

“I think your mom has the hots for me,” Tooru says, raising an eyebrow.

“She does not,” Iwaizumi snaps. There isn’t much heat behind it and he’s smiling again.

They stay in the river until they’re pruny and shivering. Iwaizumi finds a rock that he says kind of looks like a dragon scale and Tooru snatches it immediately. Then they’re standing on the bank, cool and wet and drunk, when they realize they don't have towels. Iwaizumi grumbles a little bit and forces Tooru to rub down with his shirt. He pulls a hoodie out of his backpack and forces it onto Tooru, too. It’s cozy and a little too short in the midriff area but he’s enveloped in the smell of Iwaizumi so he’s not going to complain.

“Now you don’t have a shirt,” Tooru says, pointing at his bare chest.

“It’s okay,” Iwaizumi says with a shrug. “I’m not cold.”

“The _nips_ say otherwise, Iwa-chan,” Tooru teases, reaching out and pinching one.

“Stop that,” Iwaizumi says, batting his hand away.

They sober up just enough on their half-naked walk back for Tooru to start feeling sloshy and like he needs another drink. Or a nap and some cuddling. Iwaizumi is quiet besides him, occasionally shushing Tooru so they can listen to the insects chirping and chattering. Tooru tries to pester conversation out of him until Iwaizumi is baring his teeth in another silly growl and snapping at Tooru’s finger when it goes to poke at his cheek. Their hands brush too many times for it to be an accident and Tooru slides their fingers together with a squeeze.

They’re parting ways at the trailhead when Iwaizumi catches his arm and says, “Text me when you’re home safe.”

Tooru does.

Iwaizumi works a lot, which kind of sucks, but after that night they see each other every evening. Hours and days blur into a mess of waiting, sweating, and thinking about Iwaizumi. It’s embarrassing and he refuses to tell anybody about it but his grandma keeps giving him this look that’s caught somewhere between amused and annoyed. It’s nostalgic of his childhood, really, seeing as Tooru never did anything but get into trouble as a little kid.

Tooru is waiting for Iwaizumi a couple of nights later when his grandma pins him with the scariest look he’s ever seen and says, “Hajime.”

Tooru stumbles over the beginnings of a sentence about a million times before spitting out, “What about him?”

“Oh shut up,” she says, swatting at the air. “I may be old and half-deaf but I’m not blind, Tooru.”

“Well,” he huffs. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” she says as she pours herself another glass of wine. “You’ve already said enough with your ridiculous sputtering.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious,” Tooru insists. “You’re terrible. I love you and you’re the most important woman in my life but you’re awful.”

She smiles at him then and Tooru can’t help but smile back.

“You care for him,” she says softly.

Tooru never thought there’d be a day when he’d have to have this conversation with his grandmother. He opts for honesty and nods.

“Hajime is a breath of fresh air for old folk like me,” she continues. “He’s honest and good where many people aren’t.”

Tooru isn’t sure where she’s going and it must show on his face because she rolls her eyes.

“Dumbass,” she chides. “I’m saying that if you love him, you love him. You’re my grandson and I’ll never love you any less.”

That makes it a little easier somewhere down in his chest. He was never really worried about it in the first place but the verbal reassurance is good. More than good, really, it’s encouraging. He doesn’t know what it is exactly but there’s definitely _something_ that’s changing about their relationship. Iwaizumi is tall and handsome and everything Tooru always knew he was. There's something easy and unspoken between them, Tooru would like to think. It feels natural and a little breathtaking, in all honesty. They're not just best friends anymore, Tooru can feel it in the way Iwaizumi's hands linger, in the way he looks at Tooru when he thinks Tooru isn't paying attention because Tooru does the same thing. He wants to touch Iwaizumi all the time. Tooru can't stop thinking about their night at the river, about Iwaizumi's broad palms on his back, on his shoulders, flat on his chest to shove him away whenever they start to play fight.

“Are you seeing him tomorrow?”

She says it more like a statement than a question and Tooru watches the wine in his glass. It’s a sweet white that ends with something warm and soft.

“Yeah,” Tooru says. “He has the next day off so we’re going to do something fun, I guess.”

She just hums and downs the rest of her glass.

“I’m not drunk enough for teenage love.” 

Tooru just smiles.

The next afternoon Tooru hears someone pull into the driveway. He hears them halfway up the street, actually. They’re driving something old and loud as hell and Tooru peeks through the front window when the truck pulls into the driveway and rumbles to a stop.

“Iwa-chan?” he asks the window before shoving it open and sticking his head out.

Iwaizumi climbs out of the truck and the grin he flashes Tooru sucks all the air out of his lungs. He leans back out of the window and into the house, making his way to out to the front.

“I didn’t know you had that,” Tooru says, pointing at the driving licence Iwaizumi flashes at him when he trips out the front door. “I didn’t know we were _driving_ somewhere. That’s so cool, Iwa-chan.”

“I guess I forgot to tell you,” Iwaizumi says, leaning back against the hood of the truck.

The early afternoon sun is behind him and he sort of looks like an angel. Tooru can’t help but smile back. Iwaizumi has a _truck_. It’s small-ish and old-looking and beat up beyond belief and it’s absolutely perfect.

“I like your truck, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re so grown up. We’re driving to the beach?”

Tooru’s toes curl in his shoes as Iwaizumi nods. He turns and waves at his grandmother who gives him a wave back before disappearing into the house. 

Iwaizumi jerks his chin towards the truck and the two of them climb in. 

Tooru wiggles in the seat and a laugh bubbles out of him. Iwaizumi has his license. How cool. Tooru knocks his knees together as Iwaizumi twists the key in the ignition. It rumbles to life and Tooru spreads his hands on dash. It’s a low, deep sound that pulls memories of Tooru’s grandfather right to the surface of his mind.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says, tipping his head towards the center console. “You can play whatever.”

“This is so exciting,” Tooru says too loudly. “I’m so excited, Iwa-chan. I’m going to explode.”

“Well, don’t,” Iwaizumi says as they pull onto bigger road. “We’re just going to the beach.”

He peeks over and Tooru and raises an eyebrow. “And we’re spending the night.”

“I knew it,” Tooru cries, smacking his hands down on his thighs. “I knew it! I brought extra clothes and towels and portable chargers.”

Iwaizumi snorts.

The little town fades into the distance as they pull onto the almost-empty freeway towards the coast. The drive is pretty. Tooru hums along to the song that’s playing in the background. The forest on either side of the road peels away the further they drive. The air rushing in through the open windows slowly changes into something saltier and cooler. It's a relief from the humid heat of the town. Tooru’s singing a little too loudly when Iwaizumi drops a hand from the wheel and reaches out to him. He goes to press Iwaizumi's water bottle into his palm but Iwaizumi bats it away.

"Give me your hand, dumbass," Iwaizumi says. He sounds amused and Tooru clasps his hand. Iwaizumi shakes it loose and then comes back in, twining their fingers together and resting their hands on Tooru's leg. Tooru's bites at the inside of his cheek and hopes his palm doesn't clam up. Iwaizumi is rubbing soothing circles around the knuckle of his thumb with his own thumb and as they drive the spot goes comfortably numb.

The beach isn’t terribly busy and Tooru stares out at the ocean and takes a deep breath. Did he bring sunscreen?

"Wait," Tooru says, leaning forward and peering through the windshield as Iwaizumi pulls out onto the sand. "Is this legal? Can you do this?"

"Yeah." Iwaizumi points to the couple of other cars in the distance. "Totally legal."  
Tooru takes deep breaths in through his nose while he maneuvers it until they're parked with the back of the car facing the water. Iwaizumi puts the car in park and wiggles the keys out, clipping them to his unused belt loop.

"Alright," Iwaizumi says. "Beach time."

The water is cold but Tooru lets Iwaizumi tug him in all the way to his waist, fingers twined with his and grin a mile wide. They build a sandcastle village and sand sticks all over Tooru’s legs. Iwaizumi collects tiny crabs and puts them in their village. When they dry Tooru takes half a hundred pictures of Iwaizumi crouched in the sand, hair ruffled by the breeze and eyes bright, of Iwaizumi inhaling the lunch Tooru didn’t even know he’d packed for them.

The sky burns a million different shades of orange and purple in the late evening and the sand left untouched by the water is warm and soft. It slides between toes and settles into the curves and lines of his body like it’s meant to be there, like it missed him while he was gone. There’s an outcropping of rocks a handful of miles down the beach to the left. Tooru’s toes catch on shells and dry seaweed as he walks towards it with Iwaizumi in front of him. It’s tall and wide, covered in wiry, brown plants that refuse to submit to the tug and pull of the tides and the wind. The beach is quiet. There’s a person and a dog as tiny specks in the distance, going into the water, coming back out, pausing, doing it all over again. Tooru squints into the sun and takes in a deep breath. Iwaizumi is walking in front of him, shoulders bare and broad, muscles shifting when he rolls his neck. He walks at an angle that pulls them closer to the water. Tooru follows. Iwaizumi turns over his shoulder, eyebrows high on his forehead and jerks his head. Tooru takes a long stride and the two of them fall in step together. Iwaizumi is the first one scaling the rocks, eyes narrowed when Tooru’s foot slips and he hops back down to pout.

“C’mon,” Iwaizumi says from the other side he’s hopped down to. “It’s nice over here.” When Iwaizumi plops down on his butt and tucks his knees to his chest Tooru decides it's the most amazing thing he's ever seen. The line of his nose, his brow, the curve of his jaw. The sunset and the soft sound of waves breaking on the sand. Tooru sneaks his phone out of his pocket and takes a few more pictures.

Iwaizumi turns and grabs Tooru by the waist, yarding him closer and leaving his arm loose around him. Tooru leans his head on Iwaizumi's shoulder and takes in the moment. It’s not very often that he feels like he can just sit and be quiet but Iwaizumi tends to have that effect on him. He’s solid and steady and slow in the late evening sunset and Tooru’s breathing is getting fucked up and he hopes Iwaizumi doesn’t noticed. When Iwaizumi leans over and presses his face into Tooru’s hair he can relax, though, because where that should make his heart pick up or something it just makes him feel a little bit more okay.

Both of them jump when a bird squawks and Tooru leans back to look Iwaizumi in the face and tease him for being a scaredy cat but when he tips his head up Iwaizumi is already looking at him. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon and Iwaizumi's look is absolutely overwhelming. Tooru opens his mouth but the breath he takes in feels more like he's swallowed a mouthful of cotton. It catches in his throat and works its way down into his lungs, climbs back up when he breathes out hard. The breeze is teasing his hair, making it brush the back of his neck and behind his ears and tickle. It’s making Iwaizumi’s hair shiver where it touches his forehead. Iwaizumi's hand comes up from where its resting on Tooru's back and wraps around his shoulder. His other hand comes up to hover between them like he doesn't know where to put it.

Tooru presses the back of his hand against Iwaizumi’s palm. Iwaizumi curls his hand around Tooru’s and a smile tugs at his lips. Iwaizumi's hand is calloused and warm and Tooru wants it on the side of his face, he wants to lean forward and kiss Iwaizumi until they can't breathe. Iwaizumi is leaning in, eyes dropping to Tooru’s lips before flicking back up.

Tooru's phone rings.

They’re jerked out of the moment and Tooru makes an angry noise, digging his phone out of his pocket. Its Matsukawa, the bastard. Tooru silences his phone but Iwaizumi has already pulled away. He's already leaning back and rubbing a fist into his eye.

“What phase is the moon in?” Iwaizumi asks. His voice is thick.

“Waxing gibbous,” Tooru says. “She’ll be full soon.”

Iwaizumi hums and leans back on his elbows. He sighs and lets his head fall backwards. Tooru feels like he’s going to buzz out of his skin. He sets his hand on top of Iwaizumi’s and lets their fingers slide together. It’s annoying how nicely they fit there.

They sit in silence for an indeterminate stretch of time. Iwaizumi’s eyes are closed as he tips his face up to the sky. Tooru can’t pick between watching the stars creep out and watching the side of his face. Iwaizumi pulls his hand away after a few minutes and says, “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay here.”

Tooru hums and watches Iwaizumi climb back over the rocks and head back towards the car. He turns back and flops into the sand, not caring how much sticks in his hair. He presses his hands to his chest and takes a deep breath.

There’s something there, something between them that’s budding, new, and bubbling right under the surface. They live hours and hours apart, they’re polar opposites, they argue over the stupidest things. Iwaizumi is rough hands from working outside and tan lines from being in the sun too much, Tooru is city life and volleyball tournaments and too many exams for University but despite years of living lives as different as they have, Iwaizumi is still there. Tooru’s never cared about anybody the way he cares for Iwaizumi. His summers have never stretched like this before, endless and impossibly short at the same time. It’s frustrating. He doesn’t know how long he lays in the sand and thinks but Iwaizumi’s figure looming over him jerks him out of his thoughts.

They walk back to the car and the breeze picks up into something quick and sharp. Their shoulders brush and Tooru wants to slide their hands together again. He can’t get enough of it, which is ridiculous. He’s done much more than hold hands with people before but Iwaizumi’s fingers lacing through his feels beyond intimate. The truck creeps into view and Tooru gapes. Iwaizumi snorts when Tooru speeds his pace.

The tailgate is down and covered in blankets and Tooru whines through his teeth. He pushes his hand into the layers spread out in the bed.

“Seriously?” Tooru breathes when Iwaizumi gets close enough to speak to. “We’re really having a sleepover?”

“You were the one who suggested it,” Iwaizumi mumbles. Tooru turns around and he looks sheepish, hand on the back of his neck and head ducked low.

Tooru’s scrunches his nose and turns back to the truck. There are two lanterns in the back corners that casts warm orange light over the blankets and pillows that are tossed haphazardly around. He brushes his feet off as best he can and climbs up into the bed of the truck, yanking an unzipped sleeping bag over himself and nuzzling down into the little nest.

Iwaizumi follows, shucking his jeans off and hanging them over the side of the truck. He stretches out on his back and laces his fingers over his stomach.

“Not too weird?” Iwaizumi says after a quiet moment.

“Shut up,” Tooru says, sitting up and elbowing Iwaizumi in the gut. “I like it.”

 

“I left the camper shell on so we don't get eaten alive by bugs.”

“Can I ask you something?” Tooru’s fingers find the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt and dip under it, dragging across the soft skin of his hip, his lower stomach.

“Yeah.”

 

“Will you tell the truth?”

“Yeah.”

 

Tooru takes a deep breath. “Why won’t you tell me what school you’re going to?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes don’t open but he sighs through his nose and Tooru almost regrets  
asking. Almost.

“So,” he starts, “this is really stupid and if you say anything disgusting I’ll kick your ass.”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “Why would it be stupid? Just tell me.”

“I want to go to school with you,” Iwaizumi says, still not opening his eyes. “So I haven’t committed to anywhere because I was hoping we could go somewhere together but I haven’t had the balls to bring it up.”

Tooru reels back, heart skipping in his chest.

“You wanna,” Tooru starts, stops. Pauses. Takes a deep breath. “You want to go to school with me?”

Iwaizumi throws an arm over his eyes and grunts, “Obviously, idiot.”

“In the city?” Tooru presses, spreading his palm on Iwaizumi’s belly.

“I don’t give a shit. I applied to your school and schools in the area and I haven’t gotten rejected from any of them yet, so—”

Iwaizumi shrugs.

“That’s sort of romantic.”

“Fuck off,” Iwaizumi says, dropping his arm and rolling onto his side. He isn’t anticipating how close Tooru is and he pauses, opting instead to lean on his elbow. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is tight like he’s uncomfortable.

“Can I kiss you?” Tooru asks, slow and careful.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Tooru says. “So, yes? I’m taking that crappy look as a yes.”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath in through his nose and nods. Tooru’s hand is still on his stomach and he pulls it out from under his shirt, grabbing a handful of it and leaning over Iwaizumi. He presses their foreheads together.

Iwaizumi snorts and brings a hand up to cup Tooru’s face.

“That’s gay,” Tooru says, tipping his face and closing the distance between them.

It feels like the final piece of a puzzle, if he’s being honest, the way it clicks into place. Iwaizumi’s mouth is soft and warm, his fingers slide up into Tooru’s hair and tangle it even more than the ocean breeze already has. His nose presses against the side of Tooru’s and they’re trying to find the right angle, the right tilt, the right amount of pressure. Everything feels muted and fuzzy, like he’s got earfuls of fluff. It’s easy and curious and Iwaizumi catches his lower lip with his teeth and a happy noise just before he pulls back and flops into the pillows with a satisfied grin.

“You like me,” Tooru says, leaning over Iwaizumi for another kiss.

“I like you.” Iwaizumi reaches up and cups Tooru’s face with both hands. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“I dare you,” Tooru says through a laugh, letting Iwaizumi kiss the corner of his lips a few times.

“I’m going to,” Iwaizumi mumbles, tipping his head and kissing Tooru again. He cups the back of Tooru’s head with one hand, lets the other one drag down the side of his neck, across his shoulder. It settles on his bicep, thumb rubbing back and forth while they kiss, easy and slow. It’s not an awkward first time, it’s a finally that they’ve been waiting a long time for. Tooru lets Iwaizumi climb on top of him and press him into the bed of the truck. He’s warm weight and slow kisses that sort of get fucked up the longer they kiss because they can’t stop smiling.

Tooru hitches a leg around Iwaizumi’s waist and pulls him down and that’s when things get really good. Iwaizumi’s breath comes heavier, his hands wander further and everything makes Tooru ache all over like he never has. Tooru pushes his hands under Iwaizumi’s shirt and nearly dies when his fingers meet warm skin. Something like calm washes over him as he touches the planes of Iwaizumi’s back and he doesn’t really mean to encourage him to take it off but he does and Tooru can’t really complain.

“Can we—” Iwaizumi cuts himself off with a heavy breath and lifts himself up, gives Tooru a serious look.

“Dude,” he says, pressing a hand to one that Tooru has resting on his cheeks. “I want to take your clothes off.”

The day he lets Iwaizumi fluster him is the day hell freezes over but Tooru really can’t breathe. He can feel his heartbeat at the back of his throat. He feels too big for his own skin, too small for the expanse of the universe they’re in, or something. Iwaizumi’s nose is tanner than the rest of his face and he’s looking down at Tooru like he’s in love with him and Tooru’s never been this hard in his life. His cheeks are warm under Tooru’s palms and he swallows around the lump in his throat before nodding.

“Yes,” he says but it comes out breathy and quiet. “Whatever you want.”

Iwaizumi’s brows pull low, then, and then he’s sitting back on Tooru’s legs and pushing his shirt up, tugging it off like it’s nothing.

Tooru still can’t breathe.

There are all of these moments hanging between them.

Iwaizumi’s first broken bone, Tooru’s first summer in the forest. Iwaizumi’s awkward K-pop phase in middle school and Tooru’s obsessive interest in large mammals when they were in elementary school. Iwaizumi’s fingers slide into Tooru’s hair and Tooru remembers the first time they kissed. Something like the summer after they’d just turned twelve. It wasn’t anything to write home about: short and closed mouthed and way more than weird but it was still them.

As he gropes for his bag Iwaizumi leans back and narrows his eyes. “You brought lube and shit, too?”

“Obviously!” Tooru huffs. “I like to be prepared. It was a just-in-case thing. I wasn’t planning on deflowering you or anything.”

“Wait,” Iwaizumi leans back again. “Deflowering me? Are you— do you want to, you know?”

Tooru bursts into nervous laughter at the curious look on Iwaizumi’s face. Iwaizumi follows, slightly more hysterically. It’s such a terrible question to ask.

“What do _you_ want?” he asks when they’ve calmed down.

They sort things out and Iwaizumi is slow and careful and _everything_ in a way that’s scary and overwhelming and amazing.

Something settles between them when they collapse in a puddle of long limbs and shaking muscles. Iwaizumi’s weight on top of him is grounding and uncomfortably-comfortable in the muggy air of the bed of the truck. They both heave this sigh right into each other’s skin and everything comes together for a second.

They don't fall asleep until half past three in the morning and Tooru’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

When they wake up in the bed of the truck there’s still condensation from the early morning chill and the first thing Iwaizumi does is drag his mouth along the column of Tooru’s throat in a way that’s too good to be real, probably.

It’s amazing, actually, because the time it takes to drive home gets caught in this place that’s somewhere hazy and warm and Tooru isn’t in love but he knows that he will be. The potential is nearly tangible and Tooru slices a hand through the air just to see if he can touch it. 

Even when they have to drive all the way to Iwaizumi’s tiny down that feeling lingers. It lingers while Iwaizumi kisses him in the doorway, while they touch uncoordinatedly and blow each other in the room they had their first fist fight in. Tooru clings to him while they watch old movies, while Iwaizumi roots through the fridge in the garage for beer and it’s good.

“You’re cool,” Iwaizumi says. The way he’s leaning against the counter almost makes Tooru hard again but he’s already on shaky legs so they should probably relax with that sort of thing.

The sun is long gone and his grandmother is upstairs asleep so they’re as close to “alone” as they are going to get if they’re not in the fuck-all middle of the woods. It’s sort of weird that they’re not seeing as that’s the only place Iwaizumi every really wants to be.

But he looks tired and tan so Tooru reaches out and pretends to fix the sleeve of his shirt just so he can touch him.

“You’re cute.”

Tooru looks up from Iwaizumi’s shoulder and he’s just staring, eyes crinkled at the corners. It’s a smile but it’s private and soft. 

“What else am I?” Tooru asks. “I’m cool, I’m cute. You forgot beautiful and talented.”

He watches Iwaizumi tangle their fingers together.

“You’re leaving soon.”

Tooru’s stomach lurches a little bit. Iwaizumi’s fingernails are short and a little jagged like he couldn't have cared less while he was cutting them.

“I don't want to. I’m going to stay here forever.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Iwaizumi huffs. “You would never be happy here. This could be where you put your vacation home when you’re a rich ass professional player but right now? No way. You have to spread your wings and fly and shit.”

“I could do that here,” Tooru snaps. Iwaizumi kicks his foot as a warning towards his volume.

“I could do that here,” he repeats quietly. The spot Iwaizumi is rubbing his thumb over is starting to go tingly.

“You couldn’t and that’s fine. Dude, I’m not saying it to be a dick. I’m saying it to be realistic. You wouldn’t be happy here. You’d get bored. You need the city and all the cool, exciting people. Not some tiny town in the middle of nowhere that’s way too far away for a reasonable commute. You’ve got to go to big things, you know? You’ve gotta take this challenge, you know? University ball, university classes, university girls to date. It’s like there are so many things that you have to do and that you have to—”

Tooru kicks Iwaizumi in the shin. It’s not hard but it’s enough to shut him up. The clock ticks slow and steady while they stare at each other and Tooru tries to sort his thoughts.

“You’re stupid,” he starts. Pauses. Continues, “and, so, shut up. What if I wanted to stay?”

“Stupid—”

“Shut up,” Tooru snaps. “What if i wanted to stay? Forever, even! Is it your place to stop me?”

Iwaizumi looks at him with the most confused face that Tooru has ever seen in his life and he can’t help the snort of laughter that chokes out of him.

“You just got through saying you want to move to the big, scary city, Iwa-chan. What if i want to move to the quiet countryside?”

“You don’t—”

“Realistically,” Tooru says, raising his voice over Iwaizumi. “I don’t want to live in the countryside but I want you. You’re my Iwa-chan and you’re what I want but if you try to tell me what to do I’m going to kick you again.”

Iwaizumi makes a noise at the back of his throat and his shoulders come up like they do when he’s annoyed. His eyes are soft, though, like they tend to be. Warm and open and too honest.

“What?”

“I love you,” Iwaizumi says firmly.

And Tooru goes a little weak, goes a little soft and pushes up into Iwaizumi’s space to kiss on him for a little while. Iwaizumi has work in the morning but a few more minutes won’t kill anybody.

“I love you, too,” Tooru says when neither of them can breathe very well. 

The next morning Iwaizumi’s blue bike is screeching to a halt outside of Tooru’s grandmother’s house at half past eight in the morning right when Tooru’s heading out for a jog.

“Good morning,” Iwaizumi says breathlessly, hopping off his bike and letting it fall into the grass.

“Good morn—” Tooru laughs as Iwaizumi lunges at him, yarding him in close and planting a loud kiss on his cheek.

“Good morning,” Tooru tries for the second time, arching himself into Iwaizumi and grinning.

Iwaizumi is breathing heavily, face flushed and stretched in a wide smile. “I'm on my break.”

“You biked here from work?”

“Obviously.” It comes out muffled as Iwaizumi presses soft kisses along Tooru’s cheek

Tooru shoves Iwaizumi’s chest. “You're ridiculous! Why are you here? Do you need food or something?”

“I wanted a kiss,” Iwaizumi says like it's the simplest thing in the world.

That’s too much for Tooru and he groans, grabbing two fistfuls of Iwaizumi’s stupid tank top. He yanks him close and kisses him on the mouth, probably a little too hard. Iwaizumi just hums, though, and his hands come up around Tooru’s waist, they slide up to his ribs, down and around to the small of his back while he kisses the corners of Tooru’s lips, his cupid’s bow. By the time Iwaizumi properly kisses Tooru, he feels giddy and stupidly happy all the way down to his toes. Iwaizumi’s mouth is soft and he tastes like coffee and his hands are burning on Tooru’s hips. Iwaizumi is absolutely ridiculous sometimes, this being one of those times.

His kisses turn long and open mouthed so easily that Tooru’s knees go a bit wobbly and he has to clutch at Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“You’re bad,” Tooru says with as much venom as he can muster. “I hate you.”

Iwaizumi just makes a noise at the back of his throat and threads his fingers through Tooru’s hair. He pulls just enough to make Tooru break out in goosebumps while they kiss and kiss and kiss in his grandma’s front yard.

“Go back to work,” Tooru wheezes when he manages to pull away.

Iwaizumi looks far too pleased with himself, mouth tipped up into that same crooked smile Tooru used to spend every summer smiling back at.

“You’re terrible.”

Iwaizumi throws him a grin over his shoulder as he hops back on his bike. “Only for you.”

“Go!”

“I’m going,” Iwaizumi says as he hops back on his bike. “I just wanted to see you! I’ll come pick you up after work, okay?”

Tooru huffs a heavy breath and watches Iwaizumi pedal down the street. He tosses one last grin over his shoulder and a big wave and then he’s rounding the corner and disappearing towards the backroads behind the town. Of course he goes that way. 

Iwaizumi is off early that day but the hours still drag. It’s too hot to go outside but it’s still too hot inside. It’s too hot to sleep, it’s too hot to work out. It’s too hot for anything. It must be somewhere around four that Iwaizumi shows up because the peak of the afternoon heat has started to wear off but Tooru still feels too hot for his own skin. As he’s pulling up on his bike Tooru feels like he’s going to explode. He waits, though, until Iwaizumi is halfway through the open front door to tackle him. They tip for a second but then an wraps an arm tight around him and there’s the distinct slap of Iwaizumi’s hand hitting the doorframe to steady himself.

He tucks his face into the curve of Iwaizumi’s neck and takes a deep breath in.

“Missed you.”

“You’re like a koala,” Iwaizumi says, squeezing him too tight and rubbing his face into Tooru’s hair. “Missed you, too, loser.”

They hike all afternoon. It’s muggy and sweaty and the toe of Iwaizumi’s boot gets caught on a root but it’s amazing. By the time they’re settling in for the night Tooru’s thighs are on fire and he’s so hungry he might actually die if he doesn’t get food soon. It dawns on him while they’re eating that they should probably talk about going to school together. They should talk about rent and majors and commuting. Iwaizumi is still but Tooru can feel the energy rolling off of him. When they finally talk about getting a place, about finding furniture on the internet, it’s not exactly fun conversation but they need to have it. If they live together in an apartment for their second year they could get a fish or a cat or a ferret or something.

“What the hell?” Iwaizumi asks through a mouthful of granola.”A ferret?”

“Yeah.”

“The fuck do you want one of those for?”

“They’re cute,” Tooru says. “They’re long and fuzzy and their toes look like little bear toes. And they’re smart, dude, you can teach them tricks and they’re so cute. They like to sleep around your neck and—”

“Kill you in your sleep?”

 _“Cuddle with you,_ ” Tooru wheezes.

“You’re so stupid,” Iwaizumi says. He leans in and presses a soft kiss on Tooru’s cheek, though, which takes the heat out of his statement.

The ferret argument reaches a moot point and they glare at each other for a long moment before breaking out into laughter. From there on instead of trying to speak on what’s going through his head Tooru just spends way too long stacking smooth rocks on Iwaizumi’s back and telling him everything that he’s ever been scared of.

Iwaizumi’s face is pressed into the warm, wet dirt of the forest. His breaths are deep and slow and Tooru would think he was asleep if it wasn’t for the steady thud of his heel on the ground every time he rocks his foot. 

And it sort of just goes like that for a few days. Tooru waits, Tooru jogs. Tooru cleans, Tooru visits old friends. Tooru lays in the dirt with Iwaizumi and eats too many mangoes, lets Iwaizumi drag kisses along his skin between bites, let's Iwaizumi fuck him however he wants. It’s clumsy and they’re still learning but it’s so good andi that the second time Iwaizumi comes on his stomach he cries because he’s just so happy.

They talk about everything. They’ve been friends forever but all of a sudden there’s a floodgate that’s been opened and Tooru is telling Iwaizumi things that he didn’t even know until he said it outloud. Iwaizumi is fumbling over sentences that he’s never had to say before. His hand is shaking when he brushes Tooru’s hair off his forehead and says, “I have no idea what I want from life, dude.”

They don’t think about leaving.

Iwaizumi walks him to the train station two nights and one day later and this time around Tooru isn’t an ass about his height. It’s an hour before his train is supposed to get there and the thing that’s tied itself up in Tooru’s guts weighs about a thousand kilos. Tooru doesn’t want to stepping out of the sun so he sits on the stairs instead of the bench under cover. The same sun shines in Sendai but it doesn’t feel the same. It doesn’t feel as sauna-hot, like it’s cleaning out his body and cooking him outside-in. When Iwaizumi leans his bike against the wall the scrape of the handlebars on the brick of the building is nostalgic and awful. Tooru hunches over, wraps his arms around his knees, and bites down on the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t want to go home.”

He gets jostled when Iwaizumi sits too close to him on the steps.

“You have camp,” Iwaizumi says into the crook of his elbow. “Big-dog training camp, dude, with big-dog university players. You have a summer job. Mom and Dad miss you.”

Tooru scoffs. “She keeps asking me to send her pictures of you.”

“It’s because I’m hot,” Iwaizumi says. His voice is still soft.

“I know.”

“Dude, you’re hot, too.”

“Are you saying stupid things so you don’t cry?”

“Kind of.” Iwaizumi starts to pick at the hem of his jeans and they lapse into silence.

It’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s the type of silence that says stuff that neither of them can quite say out loud yet. The cicadas are loud enough to make Tooru’s thinking space feel kind of fuzzy and he leans his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. It’s too hot to be close but touching Iwaizumi is like climbing into bed after a long week and Tooru doesn’t ever want to get up. He’s going to miss Iwaizumi a stupid amount. It’s embarrassing.

There are a few other people at the train platform. Nobody cares that they’re sitting too close together. Tooru turns his face into Iwaizumi’s shirt and takes a deep breath. He’s got a couple tucked into his bag. Iwaizumi hadn’t even commented on his shameless rooting through the closet.

Iwaizumi turns and presses his face into Tooru’s hair, nuzzles into it slowly like that will make sure Tooru won’t notice that he’s doing it. He’s been doing it, though, since they started sleeping in the same bed again, since they realized that touching each other felt natural and a whole lot like gravity.

“I don't want you to leave,” Iwaizumi says into his hair.

Tooru closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of the heavy, humid air. He loops his arm through Iwaizumi’s and pulls away so Iwaizumi has to sit up and look at him.

“I’ll see you in the spring when we move into our new place,” Tooru says firmly.

The thing with Iwaizumi is that _maybe_ and _soon_ won’t work with him so Tooru _will_ see him. Iwaizumi _will_ move up to the city if that’s what he really wants.

“There are people around,” Iwaizumi says. “So I can’t kiss you the way I want to.”

He leans over and kisses Tooru’s forehead, his brow, the bridge of his nose.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Tooru echoes.

When the train pulls into the station Tooru doesn’t cry but there are wet spots on the collar of his shirt when Iwaizumi pulls away.

“I’ll call you.” It comes out shakier than Tooru intended but Iwaizumi nods.

He sticks a hand out for one final convoluted secret handshake before Tooru’s shouldering his bag and boarding his train. Iwaizumi stands at the platform and looks through the window of the train until it pulls away from the station. He gets smaller and small in the distance. Not quickly enough to hurt like a bandaid ripped off but not slow enough to be gradual and okay. Tooru slumps into his seat and takes another deep breath. Iwaizumi’s shirt is loose in the shoulders. It smells like dirt and sun and Iwaizumi’s deodorant.

He’ll see Iwaizumi in the spring.


End file.
